


Decode

by TalesFromLuka



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Eventual Smut, F/M, First attempt at a different genre, Interspecies Romance, Maybe - Freeform, Mystery, Never really have done mystery or crime before, Original Character(s), Science Fiction, Slow Burn, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2019-07-13 12:02:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16017521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalesFromLuka/pseuds/TalesFromLuka
Summary: After a string of murders and an attempt on her life, Hanna Simon, a professor at Wayne State University, finds herself in an unlikely partnership with a washed-up lieutenant and his android partner in the hopes to solve the crimes that threaten the lives of both her and her colleagues.





	1. System Error

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy my first attempt at a mystery using my favorite detective duo. This is probably gonna be a mess of exposition and I'm sorry if it's a little boring. I tried my best!

#  **Chapter 1: System Error**

Rain was always something that brought complications. Traffic worsened both on the road and off, people slowing everything down in both places. Sure, automated travel helped in some ways but it didn’t alleviate the core problem: people are assholes. Taking the QLine usually got Hanna to work on time, but a particular asshole on the car was probably going to be the reason she was late. She cursed the day her parents encouraged her to speak her mind. 

“Hey. How does it feel to know you’ve taken everyone’s job and leave their families to starve?” 

She kept her attention on her journal, an old edition of _Artificial Intelligence Research_.  Paper, old-fashioned in these days, but she enjoyed the feel her fingers on the text. When she found vital information, she likened it to unearthing some artifact in a million year old dirt. Science had advanced so fast these days that research seemed like it was that old even if it was barely 20 years ago.  

“Hey, answer me. I know you can hear me.” A few bangs followed. She glanced at the source from the corner of her eye. 

The man was probably middle-aged judging by the amount of gray in his brown hair. His clothes were dirty, wet. He’d probably been on the street for a month, maybe less. He was a few inches taller than her without her pumps on, about the same with. The slight slur of his words suggested he was at least impaired and, if she could see his face, he probably had moved onto some other ways to deal with his pain on the street. The mild beer gut certainly wasn’t helping his case. He was projecting and Hanna knew it, but he insisted on continuing his tirade. 

Her eyes moved to the subject of his anger. Behind a barrier like animals in a corral, a group of androids stood motionless, not reacting despite the man’s constant banging. Androids were always a fascination to her. Everyone wanted one to solve their menial tasks for them. Pick up the groceries, clean the house, nurse my elderly grandfather that we stopped giving a shit about. Nobody seemed to care that they had the ability to learn, to develop, to become something other than a show of wealth or a bragging right. 

Their “minds” were the center of her research, however discredited and mocked it was. Most of her colleagues argued for her to stay in her realm; Kamski was the golden child in robotics and his androids were the whole reason she even had a relevant job. Her papers, discoveries, and programs couldn’t even compare to his shining accomplishments. What a load of shit. Kamski wouldn’t be anything if it wasn’t for his professor. Hanna didn’t care what his IQ was. Chloe was probably made for him to have a companion at all, being that his egotistical mannerisms probably deter any and all women from even nearing him. At least, she thought they should. 

She looked at the stops as the bangs grew in volume. Two more stops until Warren Ave. Fucking-a.

 

“You shouldn’t do that.” She spoke, using her best lecture voice. Teaching did come in handy from time to time.

 

The man turned to face her, the bangs ceasing. His face was gaunt yet lively. The anger probably was the only thing giving him some energy. Bloodshot gray eyes and a bit of dried drool suggested to her that he was absolutely hungover, probably drank more to take the edge off. His hair was haggard around his face, dried in places with what she could only hope was grime but the smell indicated something worse.

 

“What the hell did you say to me?” 

“I’m just saying. You’re not going to get a reaction. They won’t respond if it’s unnecessary. And some of us would like a nice quiet ride at 8 in the morning.” 

He approached her with a few heavy stomps, his balance wavering as he grabbed the handrail in front of her. 

“Oh, is that what you would like? Well, I’d like my job back! My house! And these robot fuckers took that away from me!” He pointed angrily at the androids in the back, his face inching towards hers. “Why don’t you mind your own fucking business?” 

“You know I would, but, if I don’t finish reading this passage by the time we reach Canfield, it’s going to be my business. So, if you could wait for the 10 minutes I have left on this car to pass before you resume banging on the glass, I’d really appreciate it.” She flashed a smile, hoping to sweeten the deal. 

The man smiled back before ripping the journal from her hands and throwing it on the ground. “Kiss my ass, bitch.”

 

Fantastic. Hanna took a deep breath before the announcement sounded: “Now approaching Martin Luther King Blvd.”

 

“Alright, have it your way.” Rising to her feet, she grabbed her messenger bag and promptly swung to hit the man in his face. With a thump, he fell to the floor, groaning loudly. Carefully, she stepped over his body and swept up her research journal, exiting as the car came to a stop and the doors opened.

 

The rain felt like bullets as she struggled to open her umbrella. “Oh come on.” She said, beginning her delayed trip to work. The bottoms of her black pants began to soak up water, weighing them down. She was lucky she wore a coat today and that’s where her luck stopped. She gave up after a few more futile attempts. She should’ve expected free collegiate merchandise to fail on her, but somehow, she had a slight glimmer of hope that it wouldn’t. 

Defeated, she did her best to speed-walk through the last mile to her office, angrily clicking her heels with each step. By the time she reached the school, her ash brown hair was flattened to a wet mess, despite her waking up earlier to curl it, her makeup was for the most part salvaged by a few key choices of waterproof product, and her pumps were filled with water. Looking like she had her life together for a bunch of fragile, sleep-deprived college students was not in the cards today.

 

Walking into the Computer Science department building, a familiar voice greeted her. “And what the hell happened to you?”

 

She looked up to see the face of her friend and colleague. Katherine Smith, a link between her two worlds. Half way through her undergrad, Hanna made an impulsive decision to add psychology to her repertoire and Katherine needed someone to help her with statistics. A few lessons with ANOVAs and ranting about how Freud was a dumbass later, the two became like sisters. The fact that Hanna continued psychology and computer science into her graduate career only made them closer. Nowadays, Katherine brought Hanna her morning coffee and a few words of encouragement. Of course, that meant giving her shit for trying to explain psychology in code.

 

 “You try taking the Q with some drunk asshole two stops from Warren Avenue. You’d be soaked too.” 

Katherine chuckled. “Did this asshole have anything to do with androids?” 

“So what if it did? It’s not like this is a new development in my life, Kathy.” 

“ _Kate_. Say it with me, Hann-uh.” The sound of her name said incorrectly made her cringe.

“It’s H _ah_ -nuh, Kate. Now, will you stop being a prick and bring me my coffee?”

Kate stepped towards her, making her tight curls bounce purposefully with each step. She loved being dramatic. “So demanding. Here’s your disgusting americano. No sugar, a miniscule amount of cream.”

“Like your heavily sweetened latte is any better. Don’t you do studies on sugar in coffee and how tasteless it makes you?”

“Okay, hipster Hanna. Your coffee is the magnum opus of coffee. Don’t go Kamski on me.”

She punched her lightly on the shoulder before taking a generous sip of hot liquid cardboard. “Walk me to my office?” 

“Yeah but I have to go do office hours for some students who can’t even raise a kid in the sim. Not my fault you didn’t look at developmental stages before making decisions.”

The two began to walk down the hall to Hanna’s office. “Speaking of which, do you think that maybe I could link some of that to what I’m doing? Like do you have any studies I could look at?” 

Kate rolled her eyes. “You know you have a Master’s in Psych, right? You know full well what the developmental theories are. Erikson, Piaget, Freud, you know them. You made the notecards for that test before I even could think of them.”

“Okay, smartass. I meant do you think they would be good for my research? I feel like deviancy could be the link to the beginning of the-”

“And you lost me.” They stopped in front of her door. “You’re gonna get that breakthrough whether I give you the studies or not. You’re the queen of scholarly searches, you got this.”

Hanna sighed. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

Kate put her hands on her shoulders, staring into her eyes. “For the millionth time, you’re not crazy. People will realize that with time. Even I don’t like how people treat androids. Reminds me of what happened before all that shit went down in the 60’s. The roles are switched is all. Now, race doesn’t matter but what blood you bleed does. History repeats itself and people don’t really change.”

Hanna smirked, wrapping Kate in a tight hug. “You’ll be the first person I tell when I find something out.”

“Oh I better be. I haven’t listen to you ramble about code for a year just so I can see it on social media.” 

Hanna laughed, turning to her door. “I’ll see you at lunch. My treat.” 

With a flash of a peace sign, Kate turned and started walking down the hallway.

 

Entering her office, she placed her coffee on the end table at the front of her office and bent down to take off her wet shoes. Before she could switch on the light, a heavy punch to her temple brought her to the ground. She could feel a weight over her as fingers tightened around her throat, taking away her opportunity to scream. Her hands went to her throat, impeded by gloves from getting a good grip. As she gasped for air, she slashed the air in front of her with her nails until she finally heard a gasp of pain and felt a loosening of the grip. She kicked as hard as she could, sounding a groan and the weight on her disappearing. 

She scuttled back into the wall, catching her breath. She used the breath to scream for help, but her voice was raspy and hurt. She could hear the sound of her attacker rising to their feet in the dark. She rushed to the light switch. The light revealed a figure dressed in dark baggy clothes. A sick mask covered their face but she could see their eyes: green, darker than hers. Her nails scratched their left eye. She needed to remember, every detail. Black sweatshirt, hooded, baggy jeans. Black sneakers.

She burst the door open and tried her best to run, slipping onto the tile as she exited. Maybe her luck hadn’t run out. Seeing a few students, she got back to her feet and used the wall to aid her. “Call 911!” She repeated, trying to get louder with each word. 

One rushed to her side and she finally could breathe. Only one question rushed through her mind: Who the hell wanted to kill her? 

****

Around 20 minutes later, a paramedic was assessing her injuries and the building was surrounded by media and police. Hanna held a compress over her eye, keeping as calm as she could while her brain rattled from her encounter.

 

“Follow the light with your eyes, please.” As she did what she was told, the sound of bickering entered the hall. 

“Connor, I swear to god if you follow me one more time, I’m leaving you at the fucking precinct.” The voice came from an older man, pointing sternly at his partner. 

The older man went to an officer at the scene, getting the brief. 

“Victim is Hanna Simon. Professor of Computer Science, research in AI. Went into her office, attacked, strangled. We tried to let the paramedic do some work before questioning, she was a bit rattled..” The voice trailed off

 

While he asked the officer more questions, Hanna turned her attention to his partner as he fixed his tie. Looking carefully, she could see the gleam from his coat, the light on his temple. Perking up, she tried to rise to her feet to the protests of the paramedic. His eyes caught her glance and he moved away from his partner. He didn’t seem to pay attention to his partner much. 

When he reached her, he came to her level, the paramedic moving aside with a bit of disgust.

 

“Hello. My name is Connor. I’m an-”

“Android. You’re an android.”

He took a moment to resume his speech. “Yes, I’m an android sent by Cyberlife to help with your case. If you are uncomfortable, I can wait for my partner to-” 

“No, no. I..I study androids. I’m fine, you’re fine.” 

Connor smiled for a moment. A reassurance if anything, he was programmed to do it. “Can I ask you a few questions? Any information you can give us can help us find who did this to you.” 

Hanna nodded, wincing as she removed the compress from her eye. 

“What research do you do here?” 

“I’m trying to link deviancy as a cognition rather than an error or some bug in the code. It’s gotten me fairly ridiculed. Funny how saying androids are humans causes your whole image to fall apart.” 

“Interesting conclusion. Deviants are dangerous. Haven’t you heard about the recent deviant crimes?” 

She chuckled, running a hand through her hair. “If having freedom of thought is dangerous, then everyone is.” 

He looked shaken for a moment, his eyes blinking fast. She noticed a yellow flash on his temple. “Connor?” 

He turned his gaze back to her, noticing her furrowed brow. “I apologize. Let me move on. Are you familiar with the name Jules Hayes?” 

She pondered for a minute, her mind searching through papers she had read. “He wrote about the potential of developing a personality test of sorts to detect deviancy. It sounded like some Blade Runner copy so I stopped reading. Why?” 

“He was killed a few weeks ago in similar circumstances to your attack. Do you remember what your attacker looked like?”

 

Hanna felt her heart skip a beat. Jules Hayes had some different thoughts, but they weren’t something to die over. If deviancy was such a detriment to the status quo, his work would’ve been fawned over. No one knew why deviancy happened: why would someone kill him if his work was so important?

 

“Professor Simon? Are you alright? Do you need a moment?” 

“Hanna.” She snapped back to the task at hand. She must have been lost in thought for some time. “Never Professor Simon.” 

“Connor. Jesus Christ, she’s almost been killed and you’re already questioning her?” 

Connor rose to his feet as his partner approached the two of them. She tried to raise herself to her feet but nearly fell, his partner catching her before she could fall. 

“Take it easy there. Sorry if my partner,” he spoke with a tinge of frustration at the word “partner”, “caused you any grief. Lieutenant Hank Anderson. We can question you some other time.”

“Black sweatshirt with a hood. Green eyes. Baggy jeans. Black sneakers.” 

“What did you say?” 

“My attacker. Black sweatshirt with a hood. Green eyes. Baggy jeans. Black sneakers. I scratched his eye.” 

Hank looked at Connor. “Go check for blood before the other asshole gets here.” 

“Yes, Lieutenant.” He left, leaving Hanna a bit disappointed she wouldn't have more time with him.

 

Hank took his support from her gently. She put her leg down gently before sharply taking in breath of air. Her leg wasn’t broken but she certainly sprained something from her fall. She leaned against the wall, using it to help her stand.

 

“Do you have anyone to stay with? The department can put you in protect-” 

“I’m not putting anyone else in danger.” She rubbed her neck, grimacing as her fingertips ran over tender areas. “Hayes isn’t the only one.” 

Hank furrowed his brow, “what makes you say that?” 

“You have deviant crimes going on and you have people dying that want to prove deviancy isn’t a software error. If androids are killing based on feelings, emotions, what makes them any different than the last crime of passion?" 

Hank took a step back, his eyes giving Hanna a familiar look. It was the same look of respect but judgment she had seen before. Even Connor, an android, gave her some form of it. Androids weren’t humans. They could look, sound, and act like them, but people refused to see them the same way. Even a Turing test just proved a computer could mimic a human. She could tell the look was just the Lieutenant holding his tongue. 

 

“You can look at me and call me crazy all you want. What you can’t deny is that I was almost killed for having certain ideas and so was Hayes. I am not the only one looking into this so that can only mean that I am not their last victim, this will not be their last attempt on my life, and you’re not telling me that there’s been other murders.” 

Hank opened his mouth to speak but instead sighed. “There’s two more.” 

“Well then that settles it.” 

Hank scoffed, gesturing around him. “Settles what exactly?” 

“I’m helping you solve your case.”


	2. Argument Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanna tries to get into the investigation. Hank finds someone to match his snark. Connor now has two people who won't listen to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This chapter is a little longer than the first but I hope you enjoy it just the same.
> 
> I apologize if the formatting is weird. I've been packing for a yearlong trip to Japan and currently have my computer packed in just the right way. So I've been using a tablet and my phone to access and edit my document with the full story.
> 
> I'll fix it as soon as I can!
> 
> Thank you for reading!

It was always funny how people’s attitude changed after a simple sentence. “I love you” could make a person melt or make a person cry their eyes out. “I’m sorry” could change whether a person is angry or indifferent to the speaker.  It was all based on context. In this context, Hanna had clearly said the wrong sentence. The detective’s attempt at stifling laughter had failed and he put his fingers on his temple, trying to think of the right words to say.

 

“Did you not get enough oxygen to your brain?” Well, he did  _ try. _ “You’re a victim, not a cop. You need to go to the hospital and take it easy, not get yourself killed.”

“So, I can pay what? 100 bucks just for them to tell me that I was strangled, my leg is sprained, and I have a contusion? Oh, and the cut on my eye? That’s from force.” Hanna’s tone changed too, much more snarky. “How do you know who the next victim is? Do you share your research with like-minded people who are being plucked off one by one?”

 

Hank’s mouth opened in disbelief and he scoffed. “You can tell the department and we’ll investigate. You don’t get to be part of the investigation because you study androids.” He put a hand on her shoulder; she almost found it condescending. “Look, the best thing for you is to get into witness protection and wait. You can help by staying out of our way.” He lifted his hand off her shoulder and turned, beginning to walk away.

 

“I’m sorry. Am I missing something here? Because it doesn’t really seem like you’ve got anything to go off of.” She yelled, immediately putting her hand on her throat, The pain was worse, she was talking too much. She didn’t care. She needed to see why she was to be killed.

 

He turned, his lips in a half smirk, half scowl. “What the hell do you know? You’re a crazy professor with a thing for androids.”

“And you’re an alcoholic detective that doesn’t know what the fuck is going on.” Hanna crossed her arms, shooting daggers at the lieutenant. She saw a hint of surprise. “I’m a psychologist too, Lieutenant. You can’t hide that shit from me. Look, you’ve already submitted to having an android as a partner and you clearly hate them. So what more could I possibly do?” A twinge of pain hit her eyes. Her throat really did hurt.

 

Before he could respond, the android returned, looking between the two with slight curiosity. “Lieutenant, there was no blood at the scene other than the vi-” He caught himself, looking at Hanna with his dark pools. He was scanning her. Damn. You really couldn’t hide anything from an android.

 

“Hanna’s blood was found at the scene but not the perpetrator. A few fibers were found and linked to a winter sports store. We can look through recent transactions to try to find them.”

 

Hank turned his attention to Connor. “I’ll be in the car. Don’t follow me. Make sure she gets checked out.” He looked at Hanna again, his look unsure. “You gotta a problem with living things?”

She cocked her head lightly, a look of confusion replacing her glare. “Unless you’re an asshole, no I’m fine with living things. Why?”

 

Hank chuckled, a smile on his face. “I can’t trust you to go to witness protection. So I guess you’re gonna have to stay with me.”

 

Hanna’s hands dropped to her sides. “Absolutely fucking not.”

 

“You wanna be on this case? You want to help? You’re gonna have to stay alive and, since you won’t to go to witness protection, it looks like I’m gonna have to plant you with me.”

 

“I don’t need protection. I got rid of that fucker myself with one hit.”

He gestured to her neck. “Oh yeah. Looks like that went well for you. You can bitch all you want, it’s either that or nothing. I’m not happy about it either, but it’s better than having to deal with Connor by myself.”

 

She clenched her fist, nails digging into her palms. It was the only way to get to investigate but at what cost? She glanced at Connor from the corner of her eye. On the other hand, she would get to work more closely with an android. 

 

“Fine. Just..let me get some things from my place.” She looked down, defeated. 

Hank beamed a shit-eating grin and it took everything in Hanna’s power not to punch him. “Go with her, Connor. You can take her to my place afterwards.” With that, the lieutenant lackadaisically waved and exited into the rain outside. 

 

Now, it was just Hanna and the android. He approached her, his lips parting as he scanned her more closely. Hanna was doing her own investigating. RK800. Of course, a new model. Kamski loved to show off his new toys in the worst way. She could remember when the Chloes were first released: having her take the Turing test several times was overkill. She’d often joke to Kate that he was overcompensating for something. She couldn’t help the fact that Kamski was the whole reason she even had research, but she could make fun of him to cope with it. Everyone has their ways.

 

“Hanna, I detect some inflammation in your larynx. Perhaps you shouldn’t speak. You could damage your vocal cords.”

An android showed more compassion than a human. It wasn’t all that surprising to her, but she probably took it as more than it was. “It’s nothing.”

 

“Your leg is sprained. Perhaps we should go to the hospital before we-”

“No.” She almost yelled, coughing furiously afterwards and leaning into her knees. “No hospitals. I can just- I have compression bandages at home. I’ll be fine.” 

 

Connor went to her level, placing her arm around his shoulder. “Hanna, for the rest of the night, you should answer by shaking your head yes or no. I won’t ask any questions that will require anything else.”

 

She took a few deep breaths, trying to recover from her small attack. She leaned into Connor, finally taking weight off of her sprained leg. She let out a loud groan in pain, her fingernails digging into his shoulder. She quickly realized what she had done and loosened her grip. 

 

“Shit, I’m so so-”

 

“Hanna, I’m an android. We can’t feel pain, you have nothing to apologize for. Please, don’t say anything more. You won’t be able to help us if you can’t speak.”

 

She bit her lip in frustration. He was right, but she didn’t want him to be. She nodded and he gave a reassuring smile. “Stop me whenever you need a break. You can squeeze my shoulder if you need. Your leg needs rest too, Hanna.”

 

The two began to walk albeit slowly. She felt like she was in a three-legged race in dead last. She felt useless. She wasn't one to ask for help even if she needed really need it. 

 

A few more steps and she felt her foot fall to its side, making her trip over herself. Her grip dug into his shoulder again. He caught her before she completely fell but, even then,he gently let her fall onto her knees, her bad leg sprawled out. 

 

She looked at him through her pain. This wasn't going to work. 

 

Connor kneeled down in front of her, hands readied at his sides. “Perhaps we should try another way. I could place you on my back, it would only be until we reached the car.” 

 

Hanna glared defiantly. Luck had a love-hate relationship with her today.

 

“Hanna, there's not much else we can do.”

 

She heaved a sigh, motioning for him to turn around. As he turned, she wrapped her arms around his neck before shifting her weight onto his back. 

 

She exclaimed in surprise when he got up quicker than a regular person might have, his hands under her thighs. His grip was firm but gentle. Androids were much more considerate than humans; maybe that’s why she liked them so much. He carried her through the exit on the other side of the hall, away from the police barricade and the small media following. Her case didn’t involve deviants and she wasn’t murdered. There was no field day to be had. Her campus parody newspaper would have more of a story than anything else.

 

Taxis weren’t as hard to come by anymore. Automatic driving had all but replaced drivers in the city and it was much easier to hail a ride. Plus, there were no android restrictions when there wasn’t a human driver. It seemed only taxis didn’t discriminate these days.

 

Placing his hand on the door to open it, he let Hanna onto her feet but not without making sure she put little to no weight on her leg as she did. She carefully climbed into the cab, keeping her leg extended as much as she could. Once Connor got into the car, he took the liberty of placing her leg on his lap, causing her to go against his advice.

 

“What are you doing?” She asked, a hint of confusion in her voice. She really did a number with yelling, her voice raspy, quiet. 

 

His eyes were analytical: he was searching for information but still wanted to make it look as though he was paying mind to her. 

 

“The National Institute of Health states that elevation and compression help reduce soft tissue damage. We can’t compress your leg but we can elevate it.” He explained, taking his hands off her leg. “There is also information on the effects of speaking on laryngeal inflammation. I recommend that you conserve your speaking to a minimum: it can cause permanent damage.”

 

Hanna blinked a couple times.  _ Did he just give me sass? _ , she thought to herself. She shook the thought out of her mind, instead responding with a small scoff.

 

“Why do you care? We’ve only just met.” She began inputting her address, the door closing as she confirmed the destination. 

 

As the car began to move, she noticed him take another moment to speak, as if he also needed to choose the right words. “You are my partner as well. As much as Lieutenant Anderson hates it, I give him the same respect. Without your help, I cannot complete my mission.”

 

Hanna felt her lips curl into a smile. “Partner” had a nice ring to it, even if it was only a technicality. 

 

“Have I said something that amused you, Hanna?”

 

She waved her hand. “No, I just..it didn’t take you long to accept me as a member of your team. I’m not used to that feeling.” She leaned her head back on the window, her head was pounding. She was probably feeling the effects of that hit now. “What exactly is your mission, Connor?”

 

“To find and eliminate deviants. I am also tasked with trying to understand deviancy, so as to better the efforts of Cyberlife in preventing deviancy.”

 

“You would remove your own free will?” Hanna felt hurt to hear those words, more than she could rationally explain. No, she was mistaken. It wasn’t hurt: it was pity.

 

“Hanna, androids were made to accomplish a set of tasks. We were programmed that way, but we are able to exercise free will. The way I speak to you, I’m choosing these words. I am choosing to treat you as a partner. That is free will. Deviancy is breaking a law, the laws set by our core program. It is a dangerous condition.”

 

“You can calculate the right words to say to me, Connor. You can scan. It’s part of your core processes. You treat me as a partner because that is what your program has decided will help you complete your mission. There’s not much else to it. Maybe we should drop this subject; I’m not..in the right mind. I don't want to cause a problem.”

 

He placed a hand lightly on her knee. “You see the way Hank talks. I can assure you there will be no problem. You have been very amiable.”

 

She smiled in response. She jolted slightly as the car came to a stop, Connor placing her leg down. He moved down to sit on the floor of the car. She hesitantly put her arms around his neck again, still feeling a bit awkward that this was the situation she was in. He lifted them both up, walking into the apartment building without much difficulty.

 

Hanna pointed towards the elevators, reaching over him to hit the button once they reached it. 

 

“You don’t have to do that. I am capable of carrying you and hitting a button at the same time.” 

 

She tapped his shoulder, trying to get him to let her down. He complied after they got onto the elevator. “And I’m capable of hitting a button. I’m injured, not out of commission.” She cleared her throat, the pain getting worse again.

 

“Hanna, perhaps you should stop talking now. Your inflammation has increased.” 

 

She rolled her eyes. He really wasn't going to let this go. She nodded her head, hitting the number for the 10th floor. Once they reached her floor, she used the wall as a support, Connor trailing close behind.  Reaching apartment 1010, she opened her door, immediately flipping the light. 

 

Her apartment was as she left it. Open research journals laid on the table. Her small living room, if one could call a recliner, a bookshelf, and a modest-sized TV a living room, had a box of graded papers and an equally full one of ungraded ones. Her kitchen was barely touched. She loved to cook but her work had often made her forget to make meals in time, resorting to quick cheap delivery and the occasional nutritional drink in the late hours of the night. The desk next to her “living room” which comprised her “study” had a bunch of weekly reminders on sticky notes, several of them affirmations. She could’ve sworn Kate had written some of them in the few times she visited, trying to use positivity to keep her sane. It worked some of the time. On the desk, a framed photo showed a picture of Hanna and her parents at her high school graduation. She didn’t talk about them much, but there wasn’t much to say. It’s not like anything new happened to the dead. 

 

She hobbled to the only other room, her bedroom. She sat on the edge of her bed for a minute, taking the time to catch her breath. 

 

“Hanna, is there anyway I could assist you?” Connor stood in the door frame, his eyes meeting hers. 

 

She shook her head.

 

“I will be in the next room. Do not hesitate if you need help.” 

 

As he disappeared into the next room, she managed to use her good leg to shut the door. For some reason, the smell of her clothes had become unbearable and she needed to change. She carefully slid her slacks off, keeping her leg as straight as possible. Next her coat, then her blouse. The scent gone, she could start doing what she needed. She walked to the bathroom, letting out a sharp breath when she finally glimpsed at herself in the mirror. 

 

Her right eye was slightly swollen, eyebrow burst open and already beginning to bruise. The bleeding had stopped, but it was caked on her upper eyelid and the side of her face. Lifting her chin up showed an already fairly bruised neck, dashes of black-and-blue on each side. She leaned over the sink, taking a deep breath. She was fine, she was alive. Nothing could change that right now. 

 

Opening her mirror cabinet, she took a few bundles of bandages and a handful of ibuprofen. She turned on the sink, taking a sip from the running water to both take her pills and to ease her throat even just a little.  She sat on the edge of her bathtub and wrapped around her knee before moving down to her ankle. It wasn’t the best job but it would work. She rose to her feet slowly and worked on the rest of her injuries: she took the blood off her face and placed a butterfly bandage on her eyebrow. Her neck was something she would just have to cover. She wasn’t a doctor, and, if it were really bad, Connor’s scan would’ve brought it up. She was fine, she was alive. 

 

Hanna took the time to prepare all that she needed. She didn’t know how long it would be before she would be back home, but she was going to be comfortable. There wasn’t any way she’d be cleared to go back to work and work wouldn’t let her without seeing a professional, which she refused to do. Stuffing it all into a duffel, she threw on a pair of sweats to give her leg more room and a collegiate t-shirt. Hearing a rumbling, she opened her coat pocket to look at her phone, sighing in relief when it was in good condition. 10 missed calls, 25 text messages. The texts were all Kate, a good half in concern, the other half anger once she sent photos of the news report. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with that at the moment. The calls were a few from Kate, two from her boss, and a few other numbers she didn’t recognize. 2 voicemail. She didn’t want to deal with any of it. She was fine, she was alive.

 

Limping to the door, she opened it to see Connor looking at the photograph on her desk. He met her gaze, yellow LED flickering. He was gaining some new information, probably from public record. “Hanna, are you alright?” 

 

Her hand went to her face, expecting to see blood when she removed her hand. It was expected, she’d just cleaned the wound. Instead, there was nothing but clear liquid on her fingers. Was she crying? She brought her other hand to her face, confirming what she already knew. She was fine, she was- Who was she kidding? She could talk a big game, she could tell herself everything was fine. It wouldn’t change the fact that she was almost killed, her home wasn’t safe, and she was scared. 

 

She dropped her duffel, hands wiping under her eyes. Connor approached her, LED still flickering like fire. He placed a hand on her shoulder. 

 

“I am unsure what to do, Hanna. Is there something I can do?” The tone was more analytical than it was concerned. She shouldn't have expected much.

 

She laughed, mostly at herself. Her throat was definitely killing her, but it was the only reaction she could muster. “Fuck.” She managed between laughs.

 

“Hanna, it is completely normal to react th-”

 

“I'm a psychologist and I'm fine. Please just..let's get to Hank's.” She leaned down to grab her duffel, but Connor had grabbed it before she could. 

 

“Hanna, you're not fine. I detect elevated levels of increased cortisol and norepinephrine. Your serotonin is low as well as your dopamine. You are not fine.”

 

Hanna pulled the bag back into her grip, placing it on her shoulder. “Well, I can't do anything about it, can I?” She walked towards the door. “Let's just go to Hank's. Please.”

***

 

It was an awkward taxi ride as they made their way to Hank's. Connor was the first to break the silence. “I apologize if I have made you angry. I simply wanted to alleviate your stress.”

 

She sighed. She used her phone to type out a message. “Not your fault. Don't deal with this stuff well.” He was still insistent that she keep quiet.

 

“Is it because of your parents?”

 

She whipped her head to look at him. “I scanned their faces. They died when you were 20, 8 years ago. I'm sorry for your loss.”

 

She opened her mouth but quickly tapped another message on her phone. “Nothing to be sorry about. It's complicated. Let's just get to Hank's.”

 

The car stopped and Connor helped her out again. The Lieutenant's car was already in the driveway. Did he even really work? It was only 2 in the afternoon.

 

She went to knock on the door but it swung open, Hank leaning against the door. She could see a dog perk up behind him, barking at her. 

 

“Sumo!” Hank shouted at the dog, prompting him to whimper before sitting where he stood.

 

Hank looked over Hanna. “So, no hospital visit, huh?” 

 

She went to type something but Hank covered her phone. “Don’t answer that.” He moved away, gesturing her to enter the house.

“Welcome to your new home. Try not to mess with my shit.” 

 

The door closed, leaving Connor outside. He had to report to Cyberlife anyway. Hanna looked out the window as he left before turning to a smirking Hank.

Luck really did have it out for her today.


	3. Could Not Compile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mysterious killer makes his claim. Hanna adjusts to her new role. Hank and Connor chase after the next deviant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the amount of time it took me to upload this chapter. I just moved to Japan at the end of September and I had no internet for about 2-3 weeks. Then classes got the best of me. I hope you enjoy it.

#  **Chapter 3: Could Not Compile**

            Detroit local news hummed in the background. The sounds of muffled screams barely touched its volume. In the midst of it all, they sat on a cherrywood desk, swirling a knife around absentmindedly.

            “The Simon incident didn’t go well. You’ve probably seen the news.”

            “A professor with no combat experience got you off of her and you _didn’t_ kill her? You better have a good reason for this.”

            They stabbed the knife into the desk angrily. “You want me to kill these people without my eyesight? She nearly scratched my eye itself and an assassin is nothing without their eyesight.”

            A heavy sigh came through the other line, followed by some audible objects clanging.

            They pulled the knife from the desk, trying to keep from laughing. A chair screeched as it skid across the floor. They threw the knife, slicing their tied victim’s nose open. They winced. “Sorry, didn’t mean to hit you...yet.” They covered the microphone of the speaker as they talked, waiting for the tirade to complete on the other line.

            Heavy breathing came back to the other line.

            “Does baby need his bottle?” They spoke in a baby voice, causing angry laughter over the line.

            “You better fix the Simon thing. They have an idea of what you look like, your eye color. They probably found some of your damn clothing at the scene. I pay you to kill her and now she’s some martyr.”

            “You paid me for a specific type of kill.” The screaming loudened and they rose off the desk, grabbing the knife from the wall.  They pointed the knife at his throat, a whimper responding. In turn, they smelt the air. He pissed himself. Pathetic.

            “Now I have to get messy. Because I told you it wouldn’t work this way. And you better expect to pay extra for the inconvenience."

            “Why the hell would I do that? You’re the one who fucked up. Not me.”

            They chuckled, taking out the pistol they had tucked in the back of their pants. “Because-” a loud bang, the screaming ceased- “I know who you are, where you live, and exactly how to kill you.” 

            Silence. They smirked, wiping the blood off of their hands. “But I wouldn’t do that to you. I’m smarter than that. No, I would destroy your credibility. Leave you to rot. I record these little chats of ours. Every. Single. One. It’s my guarantee you won’t turn on me.”           

            They packed their gun away, sheathed their knife. “You know what the difference between you and me is.”

            An audible gulp, it was easy to intimidate. They enjoyed the power. “What is it?”

            “I don’t hire someone to do my dirty business. I take care of it myself.”

            The sounds of liquid began to cover the floor, they covered their mouth to avoid breathing in the vapors. “Wire another 500k into my account and we’ll call it even.” They stuck a cigarette in their mouth, dragging the liquid through the rest of the building.

            “It’s done.”  A smile grew across their face. “You better be careful. They’ve got an android.”

            They laughed, throwing their gloves onto the ground and taking out a lighter. “After I’m done, nobody is gonna trust androids again.” 

            They lit their cigarette, taking a long drag before opening the door to the outside. “It’s been nice talking to you. You’ll be happy to know that the Vasilev account is officially-” They lengthened the word, throwing the cigarette into the house before running to the street. “-closed. Talk later.” They hung up the phone, taking out a small device before breaking it in half.

            The house began to envelop in flames and they made sure to watch, trying to ascertain whether their victim had some sort of safeguard against the flames. A deep chuckle. Their victim was nothing more than a researcher. Their house was bought with pension or a loan: an expensive fire-suppression system was out of the question.

            They took a deep breath before walking away from the house. The thrill of it all was intoxicating, consuming their every thought. They’d only just begun.

***

            Hanna’s first night at Hank’s proved to be a challenge in more ways than one. While she had gotten along quite well with her new four-legged roommate, she couldn’t say the same for her human one. The night was spent with Hank setting down the ground rules which could all be explained in a three word slogan repeated ad nauseam: “No snooping, no judging, and absolutely no bitching.” It was abundantly clear that she was seen as a burden and less as a guest. Though the house itself gave her enough to investigate without breaking the rules: Jazz posters hung on the walls, a vinyl record player sat in the corner of the room, and, more interestingly, real books lined the bookshelves of the living room. Yet among the unexpected, there was also the expected: empty bottles of alcohol, remnants of ordered food, and an overall lack of care for the house.

            She could surmise that something happened to him in the past, something traumatic enough to cause a drastic change. On the other hand, he could very well be a lazy asshole with an embarrassing taste for jazz. She preferred the former, but her work always let her keep her options open. Her sleep on the couch was less than restful, but not for lack of comfort. Her mind stayed in a state of shock, still reeling from the events of the previous day. She sat there for hours: staring aimlessly as the world went out of focus and she retreated into her own thoughts. She couldn’t shake the feeling of the hands around her throat, the throbbing pain in her head, and her inability to justify why her theories were so dangerous. 

            When she awoke, she realized she had barely slept at all. She didn’t even react to the fact that Hank awoke until he waved a hand in front of her face. “Jesus Christ.” She heard the exasperation in his voice. He must’ve been trying to get her attention for a while.

            She turned to look at him, her head throbbing from the quick movement. She opened her mouth to speak but only managed out a trial sound, the pain hitting her as soon as she tried.           

            “Did you not hear me call you 50 fucking times? Even Sumo tried to get your attention.” Hank was already dressed for the day, a cup of coffee in his hand. Perhaps he figured to spare her from what he wore to bed or perhaps he was being nice. Either way, she could tell by the small bottle of Jack that he put something in to take the edge off. She could use that right about now.

            Hanna shook her head, gingerly extending her legs. She let out a wince as her leg stretched out, realizing that she’d worsened her condition by sitting as she had for so long. Everything hurt, but it reminded her she was still alive among other things. She pointed at his cup of coffee, then the Jack on the table.

            He chuckled lightly and simply handed her his coffee. “You need this more than me anyway. Guess I’m not as much of an alcoholic as you thought.”

            Guilt hit her gut. She wasn’t usually so unapologetic in her relationships, but last night her situation called for her to snap. At least, she thought so. She tried to speak, but he cut her off:

            “Relax. I’m just fucking with you. No need to say anything. You should take a sip of that coffee though, we’ve got shit to do today.”

            She took a gulp of the coffee, the taste of whiskey burning her tongue and throat. Well, she was awake now.         

            “First case is a deviant case. Guy was killed by his android and she escaped with his daughter or some shit. Connor,” he heaved an irritated sigh, “will be with us. The next case is something you could help us with. Do you know a Vasilev?”

            She nodded her head. Vasilev was someone she had actually met: they had a short correspondence after a conference about new technology he was creating. She hadn’t spoken to him in quite some time, but they had an argument over their thoughts on androids. 

            “Well, his house was burnt to a crisp with him inside. Maybe you could explain why?”

            She sank more of the coffee down her throat, diminishing half of the liquid. The chain was becoming clearer and it haunted her.

            “Woah, slow down there! Can’t have you choke. Connor would never let me hear the fucking end of it. You’re our ‘partner’ now he says. He’s an annoying little shit about that.”

            Hanna placed the cup on the coffee table before rising to her feet. Her balance was shaky and she waved Hank’s attempt to catch her away. “Sumo!” He called, the dog barking in response.

            He pointed at her and Sumo went to her side, sitting and panting happily in anticipation. “If you won’t go get help, you gotta at least try to get better.”      

            She glared a bit at him, taking the Sumo’s collar. “Be quick about it. I ain’t got much time before Connor chews me out for not showing up on time.”

 

***

            The deviancy case led them to a motel in a poorer part of town. Signs in the neighborhood marked a clear discrimination towards androids. Nearly every building with the exception of the convenience store banned their presence. Hanna couldn’t help but scowl at the state of things.

            Connor was the first to take initiative in the investigation, which, for the first time Hank didn’t seem to mind. Maybe he was coming around to having him on the team.          

            “Let me do the talking. You look around.” Hank spoke, bringing her back to the attention of the task at hand. “Hanna, you stay in the car.”

            She lifted her hands in protest and Hank scoffed. “You can barely walk and it’s raining. I’ll be damned if you somehow fuck your body up more. This isn’t your case; you’re staying in the car.”

            While his words were laced with a concern, in an albeit aggressive way, she couldn’t help but feel frustrated. It wasn’t her place to intrude on the investigation, but she didn’t want to sit pretty and wait for her turn. She bit her tongue and nodded, a bit of anger building up.

            “Let’s go, Connor.”  Hank opened the door, exiting into the downpour outside.

            Connor turned to look at Hanna. “It shouldn’t take that long, I promise.” He flashed her a smile, her anger slightly fading. “We’ll be right back.”

            She watched as they left, Connor trailing off towards the motel itself, Hank speaking to the front desk. Only a few moments passed before she watched Connor dart off, following a woman and a child. The deviants, she surmised. Hank followed suit along with a few other officers, which quickly left Hanna desiring to follow suit. 

            Carefully moving her leg, she opened the door and exited the car. She almost fell from putting pressure on both feet but used the door to the best of her ability. She limped after them, the rain making it hard to follow them. When she finally did catch up, her leg throbbed in immense pain and she immediately regretted her curiosity.

            “Connor, stop! Are you trying to get yourself killed? Don’t follow them. It’s over.” Hank shouted, muffled by the downpour.          

            She watched Connor wait for a moment, his LED flashing yellow. He didn’t move from his readied stance, hands still ready to climb the chain-link fence. After a moment of prolonged silence, his LED stopped flashing and he lowered his head.

            “Shit.” Connor’s tone lingered on irritation, but it seemed less artificial this time. She must’ve just imagined it.

            Hanna pushed through the other officers behind them and found her way to Connor’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder. Their eyes met and she managed to muster a few words out but they were broken, hoarse: “I need you here.”

            She meant little more than what she actually said; she needed him to help solve her case, but her observations made her even more curious. His LED began to flash more and more, an indication of strain. His demeanor had changed even in the most miniscule of ways. He could be the culmination of her research. And, if he couldn’t, he was the person she looked forward to seeing.

            Connor furrowed his brow at her words, removing his hands from the fence. He met her hand with his own, giving her a squeeze of affirmation. That was new. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Hanna.” His words were soft, tinged with a bit of concern. It still seemed too fabricated, considering her state.

Hank heaved a sigh at the two of them: “You know, you’re gonna make yourself worse if you don’t listen to me.”

She removed her hand from Connor quickly, feeling her body fall into the fence. She was caught by him, a fact that made her feel frustrated.

“You’re going to the fucking doctor-” he pointed at her sternly as she opened her mouth to protest- “Don’t bitch: it’s either doctor or no case.”

She bit her tongue once more, and let out a frustrated breath. She could feel tears building in her eyes at the mention of a doctor. She’d done this to herself but it didn’t make her any less angry. 

Hank took Connor’s place in holding her up, helping her walk out of the alleyway and towards the car.

He muttered softly as he was closer to her: “I can’t have both of you try to die on me.”

 

 

           


	4. Memory Overflow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor discover there is more to their companion's stubborness than they previously thought. Hanna relives a painful memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I apologize for the amount of time it took me to release this chapter. The exchange I've been on in Japan has been full of ups and downs, which stunted my creativity for a while. It's been hard but I've finally gotten the motivation to finish the chapter! I apologize that this chapter is more Hanna centric but next chapter will be back on track of the mystery. I also realize I made an error in her timeline so I will remedy the second chapter to fit the new timeline. Thank you all for your patience! Please enjoy.

#  Chapter 4: Memory Overflow

In the early days of June, sunlight had been the only alarm Hanna answered to. Days of standardized tests and dual-enrollment finals took away her will to wake up early, too exhausted to even try to plan a schedule for her day. Usually by noon, the light hit her face in just the right way to wake her up. She’d turn to avoid it, but it was for naught: once she was awake, she was awake.  Though today, things were on schedule, whether she chose it or not. 

 

A gentle nudge allowed her to peek through her heavy eyelids just enough to see her father sitting at the edge of the bed in front of her. “ _ Vakna upp, sotis _ .” His voice was gentle, but to her it all seemed like an assault in her tired state. She rose her head up just enough to groan, digging her face into her pillow. 

 

“Just because you say it in Swedish doesn’t make it any better.” She said, her pillow muffling her words. Her father chuckled and rubbed her back. 

“I know you want to sleep but it’s one of the most important days of your life.”

 

She turned her head, looking up at him through her tresses. “You know full well that they’re gonna say some stupid shit about ‘how we all went through this together’ and ‘we’ll never forget the times we had because we’re friends forever’ and then drink themselves stupid while their parents sit back admiring their shining 2.5 GPA.”

 

“Yes but your mother and I want to sit back and admire your Caltech acceptance. And you can enjoy never having to see those people ever again.”

 

Hanna groaned and turned away. “Or I could just sleep and pick up my diploma later.” 

 

“Or...You could wake up and eat the pancakes your mother made with that jam I bought all the way from Stock-” 

 

Without another word, Hanna had jumped out of the bed and bolted out of the room. The kind hazel eyes of her mother met her as she cooked behind the bar top of their apartment kitchen. Turning her attention back to their breakfast, she heaved a sigh. “I told him to lead with the pancakes but I’m going to guess he tried to rouse you with a nice Swedish phrase.”

 

Hanna nodded, going behind her mother to start herself a cup of coffee. “My brain barely works in English when I wake up: I don’t know why he tries to switch on the Swedish side.” 

 

The smell of roasted coffee filled the air, Hanna taking a deep inhale trying to rouse herself. Her mother raised an eyebrow, flipping a pancake. “Careful, don’t want you getting a contact high.”

 

Hanna rolled her eyes. “Not like that’s possible,” she mumbled, taking a swig of her black coffee.

 

When her father entered the room, she walked by him with her cup in hand, whisking the round glasses off his face. It was a habit of hers since she turned eight years old and associated her father’s glasses as a superhero’s mask. With glasses, he was a computer engineer who flocked from Sweden to show America his magic motherboards, and without, he was just a normal middle-aged father, albeit with a funnier accent than most. Hanna looked at the newspaper front page, peeking over at her father.

 

“ _ Avslutningsvis ett formiddag tidning _ .” She spoke in a less than authentic accent, the American in her making it have that particular twinge of deniability that she was actually fluent. Nevertheless, her friends would have no idea. 

 

She had a habit of teasing her father's daily routine. He couldn't help but laugh as he took a seat beside her and gently took his glasses back. “I swear you and your mother have the same habit of making mornings hell.”

 

Her mother gave a sarcastic laugh in response. “Just remember, you still have to sleep in the same bed as me,  _ Elias _ .” She separated plates of food, giving a rather large serving for her daughter. 

 

“And you can blame yourself for my contribution. Could've just worn a condom and been done with it.” 

 

Elias spit up the coffee he drank, almost choking on it as he tried to process the vulgarity. Why hadn't he told her to not speak her mind at certain times?

 

“Hanna Elinor Simon. You can say what you want but you  _ cannot _ kill your father. No matter if it's his fault or not.”

 

Wiping the coffee off his mouth and clothes, he managed a few words between his coughs: “It's fine, Clara. Just didn't expect it.”

 

After setting the folded thin pancakes in front of them, Clara joined them, placing an open jar of the promised jam from Stockholm on the table. Hanna took a generous scoop before beginning her quick inhale of everything on her plate.

 

“Woah there. I don't want to have to walk into the hospital with my kid and look like I didn't teach you to eat properly.” 

 

Hanna took a break to sip her coffee, glaring over the mug at her mother. For a doctor, Clara seemed to dislike taking care of people. She could remember her mother's heavy sigh whenever she'd run a fever and needed to stay home from school. Though that irritation would eventually slip away as she cared for her daughter throughout the day and the sudden click of the phone after she took the day off. Hanna knew the irritation was more that she didn't want to go to work and now had an excuse to neglect her duties. Some times, she wondered if her mother ever wanted to be a doctor or if the psychological burden had finally taken its toll.

 

After setting her mug down, Hanna pointed her butter knife at her mother: “For the record, I have never once embarrassed you in front of your coworkers.” 

 

Clara scoffed, tying her dark brunette hair high on her head. “Well, you're also one of the only kids in our group going to a good school, so if anything, they're jealous of you.”

 

A few moments of silence took over, only the sound of silverware on plates before her parents exchanged a look, prompting her mother to get up to go to the next room. 

 

Hanna rose an eyebrow, sipping the last remnants of her coffee. “You guys are up to something.” 

 

“Well,  _ sötis _ . I know you're not really looking forward to today but we thought we'd kind of sweeten..sweeten….” The idiom was escaping him.

 

“The pot?”

 

He snapped his fingers, “Yes. The pot.” He furrowed his brow. “Why is it the pot?” He mumbled to himself. 

Her mother returned and put a small jewelry box in front of her daughter. “What your father is failing to say is that we decided to give you a graduation present early.” 

 

Hanna looked warily between each parent, her mother now standing by her father with a hand on his shoulder. They had the weird smiles on their faces whenever they were anticipating her reaction. She warily opened it, her eyes widening. “I-I can’t accept this. Caltech’s gonna cost a lot and the plane tickets there for orientatio-”

 

“Hanna. It’s not as pricey as you think. Plus, it’s not like one little gift is going to change our ability to put you through college.” Clara gave her daughter a small eye roll.

 

Her brow furrowed in guilt, tears welling up from out of both sincerity and gratitude. “Mom..Dad…” She brought the gift to her wrist, a simple band with three stones in the middle: carnelian for her father, tourmaline for her mother, and emerald for herself. On the inside, the words  _ Always in our Hearts  _ marked the silver. It was cliche but the whole package really touched Hanna. They were inseparable and it would be hard to be far from home. 

 

“Congratulations, Hanna. We’re so unbelievably proud of you.” Her father spoke and went to her side pulling her into a warm embrace. Hanna couldn’t help but let the tears fall as her mother joined. It made the desire to skip graduation lessen; after all, she should go through with it. It was only right. 

 

When her parents pulled away, she felt her mother put a hand through her hair before nudging her to leave the room. “Well, go get ready. We don't have all day. You have to be there early and I don't want you to get locked out of the building.”

 

With a nod, Hanna left the room as quick as she could. It was all too good. One of her favorite breakfasts, a thoughtful gift, the typical dynamic she was used to. If only she could have stayed in that moment forever, stuck in their comforting embrace, words of encouragement nudging her on. If only she'd gotten up a few minutes earlier to spend more time with them. Anything was better than what she had left: a few hours on a summer day where she never felt more at home, happy, and safe. There was nothing that could change the inevitable fact that still haunted her mind: those were the last hours she would ever spend with her parents. 

 

***

The raindrops on the window allowed Hanna to distract her mind from the destination. She began to follow them with eyes, pretending they were racing each other like a child. It was immature but there wasn't much else to keep her from her thoughts. 

 

Connor sat in the back with her, stubbornly keeping her leg straight. Hank was no help either. She couldn't tell if he was angry or worried but he definitely was keeping unusually quiet. Maybe he didn't like hospitals either, maybe just as much as he disliked androids. Though he did save Connor, so maybe that was changing. 

 

Lights reflected on the window and each individual raindrop, forcing Hanna to focus on the reality. Her eyes instinctively widened when she saw the hospital cross, her heart beginning to beat rapidly, breath following suit. Her chest felt tight and her hands began to tremble uncontrollably. 

 

As the car stopped, she barely noticed they'd stopped moving. It was only when she noticed the slamming of the door as Hank left the vehicle that she turned to see Connor's face, brow furrowed. She moved her shaky hands to her hair, tightly holding onto it while keeping it out of her face. 

 

_ Breathe. You can't do this. You have to go in there. _ Her thoughts repeated desperately over and over. She tried to take a breath in slowly but the rhythm was overtaken by the need for air.

 

Hank returned with a wheelchair and an orderly. Hanna tried her best to move away from the door. She desperately needed to leave the car but if she did, she'd be dragged into the hospital anyway. 

 

“Hanna, they're going to help. You will be okay.” Connor tried to calm her but her own body was pleading with her to get out. Nevertheless, she was placed into the wheelchair moments later. 

 

Keeping her head down, she could feel waves of chills and heat. At this point, her legs were close to her chest despite the pain and she was barely paying attention to what was going on. She could barely make sense of what was going on around her, trying only to keep her panic contained. 

 

As they turned to wheel her into the ER, the sight of an empty gurney entered her view along with a flash of a memory. “No!” She suddenly screamed. Her whole body trembled, breath shallow. 

 

“Miss, what's hurting? What can I do-” The nurse bent down to her and lightly touched her, forcing her to smack the arm away and get out of the chair.

“Get away from me!” She moved back to a wall, tears streaming down her face, hands futilely trying to wipe them away. Hank looked on, half concerned, half annoyed.

 

“Kid, they're trying to help you. Get back in the chair and stop fooling around.” As he went to touch her, Hanna broke away roughly, causing his annoyance to grow. 

 

A few nurses and orderlies were now watching the events unfold, all the while Hanna tried to look for an escape between any of them.

 

“Miss, please calm down. We can't help you if you don't calm down.” The nurse who set her off took a step toward her and she took the opportunity to try to bolt. Her escape was stopped by two nurses who grabbed her arms, causing her to thrash. 

 

“No, no! Don't! Stop!” She began repeating hysterically. Her legs kicked frantically to get out of their hold. 

 

“We need help and sedation immediately!” She heard one call. After a few minutes of thrashing, Hank took over, keeping her shoulders locked. 

 

She could hear him speaking to her but her hearing was becoming white noise. Connor eventually grabbed her legs followed by a sharp quick pain. As she started to fade, she could hear Hank's voice tinged with concern: “What the hell happened to you?”

 

***

Sounds of voices were speaking in low whispers around her, rousing her enough to open her eyelids into a slit.

 

“Her fall caused a small hairline fracture in her femur and strained some of the muscles in her thigh, but that's luckily the worst of it. We sutured the wound on her eyebrow to prevent it worsening and X-rays showed little internal damage other than swelling and the obvious external bruising. What was interesting though is that we saw evidence of other surgeries.  There was a rod in her opposite leg from a previous injury and signs of newer bone in her right forearm. Additionally, there were a few surgical scars on her abdomen. Fairly healed. Regardless, because of her reaction, I'd like to watch her overnight.”

 

“Is there anything else we should know, doc?” Hank's voice was outside the doorway, his voice gruff and slightly concerned. It wasn't something she was used to hearing from him.

 

“No. For now, make sure she just doesn't put more pressure on it than she needs to and rests. She should be fine in a few weeks.”

 

“Thanks. Here's my card if you need to reach someone. I know it's not my job but I also can't trust her to follow any medical advice.”

 

As Hanna turned her head, she met Connor's gaze, almost watchdog-like in its rigidity. He sat in the chair next to her for visitors, sitting with the inhumanly perfect posture all androids seemed to have. She began to prop herself up but was stopped by another voice, one she didn't expect.

 

“Why the hell didn't you call me?” Her head turned to find Kate, hands on her hips. She had that typical look in her brown eyes when she was pissed, sharp daggers boring into her with murderous intensity. It sent guilty pangs into her stomach, her head immediately down. 

 

She tried to speak but was interrupted by a fast embrace. “You were nearly killed. I was so worried about you!” Kate’s voice was breaking, her tears beginning to wet the front of her hospital gown. 

 

Hanna wrapped an arm around her, still trying to readjust from the meds. 

 

Kate’s hands held her face in her hands like a mother would a child. “I am your family, Hanna. You should know this by now. We don’t share the same blood. But I am your family. Don’t you ever forget that.” 

 

Hanna’s own eyes filled with tears. She  _ should _ know better. Kate was the first friend she made after her parents. The person she went home to Christmas with when she didn’t want to spend time with distant relatives she barely knew or constantly be reminded how she’s the only reminder of their existence. She wouldn’t have to stay in an empty apartment alone with her memories of laughter, warmth, and family on Thanksgiving. She was a bad friend and a worse sister if she could even be called that.

 

“I love you, Hanna. Okay? You can talk to me when you want; I know you will.” A knock came to the door, a nurse standing in the doorway. Hank loomed behind him, entering the room before he could speak. 

 

“I’m sorry, miss. Visiting hours are over for the day.”

 

Kate turned to the nurse. “She only just woke up, just..five more minutes.” 

 

“Sorry, miss. It’s hospital policy. You can come back tomorrow morning.” 

 

Hanna could feel Kate’s anger resonate: the nurse was lucky that assault and battery were still illegal. She turned back to Hanna, placing a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t worry about work, ok? They’ve got your classes covered. I’ll bring you whatever you need. Just text me, I’ll get it from your h-”

 

“No!” Hanna almost yelled. “Sorry..I..you can’t. It’s not safe. Just..try to keep yourself out of everything. Until we know it’s safe. I..” Her throat felt numb, but still ached. A hand went to her neck again, trying to massage the pain out.

 

“I got it. But you need to keep me updated or I’m gonna make you end up here again.”

 

Hanna stifled a laugh, giving Kate a squeeze. Kate got up from the bed and collected her things, stopping when she got to Hank. She could hear her say something to him under her breath. Hank’s scoff before mumbling something back must’ve meant that Kate either asked too much of him, or gave a veiled threat. She was funny like that sometimes. 

 

When she left, the room closed in on Hank, Connor, and Hanna. A low light provided enough visibility for them to see each other but Hanna couldn’t bring herself to look at Hank. 

 

“You weren’t kidding when you said you didn’t want to go. That was pretty fucking wild for just being stubborn. You want to explain yourself?”

 

She kept her head down, the tears restarting. “I..”

 

Hank heaved a sigh, lifting his hands up. “You can tell us when you’re able. You need to rest, kid. Doc says you’re pretty beat up.” He walked over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We’ve all got issues. Some of us just more than others.” 

 

She swore she felt a light squeeze. Perhaps the detective had a softer side than he let on. When she gazed up at him, she found a rare smile; somehow instead of confusing her, it was comforting. “Tomorrow morning you’ll be out of here. And as long as you stop being so stubborn, you’ll never have to come back.” He moved towards the door. “Connor and I will have an officer posted so that you stay safe.”

 

As Connor rose to his feet, Hanna found herself scrambling to reach for him. “No!” She yelled raspily, her breath hitched in fear. “Please. One of you stay. I can’t.. I don’t know anyone else. They kicked out Kate..please.” Her tears were streaming again; she cursed how vulnerable the environment had made her. Hank looked between himself and Connor, opening his mouth as if to say something smart. But even he realized, she couldn’t take it now. 

 

Connor came to her side, pulling the chair closer to her bed. “I can stay, Lieutenant. You have to take care of Sumo.” He almost sounded like a parent in that moment. 

 

Hank pointed threateningly at Connor, a smirk on his face. “Watch it. We’re not that close.” He turned to Hanna, “I’ll be back to get you in the morning. If we’re lucky, they’ll be some more information on your case.” Without another word, she watched the Lieutenant leave.

 

A tight grip on her hand brought her attention back to the android beside her. “I’m sorry, Hanna. It must be hard to be here. There was no other way to help you.” 

 

She nodded silently. He was right: she could try to heal on her own, but she was only delaying the inevitable. She reciprocated his grip, letting herself go. It was hard not to remember the months she spent after the accident alone in a bed, the memory of her parents telling her it would be okay, the sounds of sirens, the unnatural clean smell. It was too much for her to bear on her own.

It would be another 15 minutes or so until she calmed down. She was curled on her side, cradling his hand and ignoring the IV and leads connected to her. She looked at him with an apologetic look, not moving. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, a crack in her voice. 

 

Connor shook his head, giving a warm smile. “It’s fine, Hanna. I’m glad that I helped in some way. We are partners after all. You, Hank, and I.”

A small smile almost curled on her face. “I’m glad you stayed.” She could feel her eyelids getting heavy: the stress of the day and her tears finally tiring her out. “I’m glad it was you instead of Hank.”

 

As she closed her eyes, she could have sworn she saw his LED blinking. She heard him speak, but she was too tired to make it out. Within a few short moments, sleep finally took her, putting her troubled mind at ease.

 


End file.
